


I almost like it when you hate me

by MolestingMusic



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Feels, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Past Relationship(s), Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MolestingMusic/pseuds/MolestingMusic
Summary: Maybe they're still the same teenagers, after all.





	

Towel, sweat, water, applause.

Brendon raises his arms in triumph as the crowd cheers on, the applause and screams almost deafening. He turns to look at Dallon and grins, a satisfied expression on his face. He remembers how it was like years ago, when he would turn to look at Ryan, a thousand words said in a glance. He misses those moments but he pushes the negative thoughts away as they step off the stage, headed to the dressing rooms.

"Amazing, dude," says Spencer elatedly, patting Brendon in the back. "Fucking amazing show!"

Ian joins them, high-fiving them all, and they all stand in a circle, laughing and talking. The roadies pass them in a blur, trying to get out of there as soon as possible, and a slightly unpleasant smell reminds Brendon of something. 

"I need to take a shower before we leave," says Brendon in a sardonic tone. 

"Oh, that was you?" jokes Dallon. "Man, I was starting to think a groupie died back there."

"Hilarious, Weekes," retorted Brendon playfully. "Be right back, guys." 

The rest of the crew smile at him as he walks by, telling him how great the show was, how amazing his singing was, and he doesn't know if he should believe them.

Because yes, he is confident of his talent, but sometimes he's not so sure. 

Brendon merely shrugs, still exhilarated by the energy of the performance, and he bites his lower lip nervously as people continue to congratulate him. "New York, New York, always a pleasure," sings Brendon to no one in particular as he reaches one of the doors. His fingers wrap around the doorknob and he glances at the name tag pasted on the door, his very own. He smiles again, finding the fact that he is still shocked by his lifestyle completely amusing, and he steps into the room. 

"Whoa."

Brendon stands still, his eyes fixed on the tall guy who is looking bemusedly at some of the items on the floor. Brendon looks straight at him, his lower lip quivering, and he wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks. 

"Ryan, what are you doing here?" he asks, hesitation escaping his lips. 

"The show was amazing," says Ryan dryly.

"Nobody told me you were here," says Brendon, feeling slightly frustrated. 

"Zack let me in," explains Ryan simply, like it's no big deal.

"Oh... okay." Brendon feels how his heart starts beating in an unpleasant way, the way the awkwardness makes the air in the room heavy with tension, and he doesn't know what to say. 

"Great show, by the way," comments Ryan, giving him a wry smile.

"You already said that," says Brendon breathlessly. 

"I said amazing, not great," shrugs Ryan.

"So the quality of the show starts degrading with every second that passes?" mocks Brendon, giving him a smirk.

"Yeah, pretty much," chuckles Ryan, and the awkwardness is suddenly gone. 

Brendon moves closer to him, brushing his own sweaty hair off his forehead and laughs, looking straight at Ryan. "What are you doing here?" insists Brendon.

"You know, this conversation is getting slightly repetitive," says Ryan acidly, taking a step closer to Brendon. "I just came to say hi."

"Do you want to say hi to Spencer as well?" says Brendon. Ryan shoots a glare at him and shakes his head, sighing deeply. 

"Maybe later," muses Ryan. "I wanted to see you first." 

They look at each other and Brendon notices how Ryan has aged; the boyish charm is now gone, he looks more like a worn-out adult now, his jaw extremely well defined. Brendon glances around and sees a reflection of himself on the dressing room mirror, and he knows that he has aged as well.

No, they're not the same teenage boys who used to sneak out after a concert and go missing for hours, holding hands and sharing secrets behind the tour bus. They're not the same guys who used to lie on Ryan's bed and stare at the ceiling, the silence between them saying more than any words they could possibly speak. 

And yet, Ryan is still the same guy who broke his heart, the guy who left him. 

Brendon blinks as Ryan moves closer, the tip of their shoes touching. Brendon gulps as he feels Ryan's breath on his lips, and he can feel how his cheeks are burning red, his body betraying him as always. 

"How's Sarah?" teases Ryan, and Brendon wants to push him away, he wants to hate him, he wants to break him.

"She's doing fine," says Brendon defiantly. "How's the blond of the month?"

"Ouch," smirks Ryan, and Brendon feels lost. 

Ryan's lips brush his and he shivers, the longing too much to handle. 

"What makes you think you have the right to come here and do this?" protests Brendon feebly. 

"I don't have any justifiable reasons," admits Ryan, and his sudden vulnerability makes Brendon frown. "I just... miss you."

"Well, I don't," lies Brendon, his voice shaky. 

"You were never good at lying," breathes Ryan, and kisses him. 

Brendon wants to stop, he knows that this is not right, that someone else is waiting for him back home. But he gives in as soon as Ryan's tongue touches his lips and he opens his mouth eagerly. He flings his arms around Ryan's neck and pulls him closer, their kissing intensely desperate, almost reminiscing of the first time their lips met.

Ryan pulls away and he touches Brendon's cheek with one of his long, spindly fingers, and gives him a crooked smile. "Hi," says Ryan calmly. 

"Hello," replies Brendon breathlessly. 

"It was really nice seeing you and all, but I have to go," says Ryan reluctantly. "Um... Whenever you go back to California, maybe... maybe we can..."

"No," interrupts Brendon. "I have a girlfriend, and... no. Just... I'm sorry, Ryan."

Ryan's face is suddenly outlined in despair, but he nods gravely as he takes Brendon's hand in his. Their fingers intertwine and both of them look at their locked hands, feeling the regret that irradiates from their bodies. 

"I'm sorry too," mumbles Ryan monotonously, brushing Brendon's hand with his thumb. "You're incredibly talented, Brendon. I don't want to sound condescending but... I'm proud of you."

"I don't need your approval," says Brendon stubbornly, trying to remain strong. 

"I know... I know."

Their eyes meet and the deafening silence is killing Brendon, and he bites back all the things he wants to say to Ryan, knowing that it would only create a mess that can't be fixed. 

"Okay, then," says Ryan uneasily, and lets go of Brendon's hand. He walks over to the door and Brendon just stands there, trying to ignore his aching heart before turning around to watch him leave. 

"Hold on," gasps Brendon and Ryan turns to face him quickly, waiting. Brendon walks over to him rapidly and crushes his lips on his, pushing him against the door brusquely. The kiss is bruising Brendon's lips, but he doesn't care. Brendon missed Ryan so much, more than he let everyone know, but he knew that nothing could be done about it. 

They kiss for what seems an eternity, and when Brendon finally pulls back, there's a huge smile on Ryan's lips. 

"Goodbye, Brendon," he says in an arrogant tone, his eyebrows raised. 

"Stop acting so cocky, Ryan," sneers Brendon.

Maybe they're still the same teenagers, after all.


End file.
